


from far up north

by Donatello (jollypuppet)



Series: the chronicles of stiles' sofa [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Conversations, Developing Romance, Fluff, M/M, Rain, Road Trips, Romance, i'm just completely making locations up don't mind me, sincerest apologies to anybody who lives in washington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jollypuppet/pseuds/Donatello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not sure when he got to a point in his relationship with Derek Hale where they were laughing at each other in the rain in abandoned amusement parks, but... well, he's glad they're there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from far up north

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, everyone -- the big Seattle trip and the penultimate edition of _the chronicles of stiles' sofa_. I know, it's very sad that it's ending so soon, but I have some good news, too! This series has been nominated for **Best Sterek Fic** at the [Teen Wolf Blog Awards](teenwolf-blogawards.tumblr.com) over at Tumblr. The nominations will be over soon, but once the voting starts, your support would be greatly appreciated! (Of course, if you see something you think deserves to win more, then feel free! May the best fic win!)

School goes on like always, despite the sudden emotional high that Stiles finds himself experiencing almost constantly, and the clouds don't seem as dismal as they've been in previous months. He's not sure if it's the weather or his changed perspective or what, but school doesn't seem like such a downer anymore.

It's still a downer, but it's just... not as bad. Still not as good as the weekend, but not as bad.

Stiles catches up to Scott at his locker just as he's shoving things away, and he leans against the wall, grinning. "So," he starts casually, "got any plans for the long weekend?"  
  
Scott just shrugs as he stuffs books into his bag. "I dunno. I'll probably hang out with Allison, I think." He furrows his brow. "If her dad doesn't kill me, that is."

Despite himself (or, rather, despite Scott, he guesses), Stiles chuckles, slinging his backpack further over his shoulder. "Dude, you are _seriously_ in the red zone for Kids Who've Dated My Daughter." Scott glares half-heartedly at him and he laughs. "Just don't give him any reason to hate you. Or, any _other_ reason to hate you, I guess."

"Yeah, easy for you to say." Scott shoots back with a grin, shutting his locker. "I'm sure nobody's dad would be killing you over their daughter."

"Cause I don't _have_ a girlfriend, you ass!"  


Scott punches his shoulder playfully. "What are you doing, then?" he asks. "You're not just gonna hang out with your dad, are you?"  
  
Stiles feigns insult. "Is something _wrong_ with my dad?" Scott laughs and Stiles just shrugs. "I dunno, maybe I'll watch some movies or something. Or... go the library. I guess."  
  
"Dude," Scott pipes up, "you watch movies all the time. I'd be surprised if there's a movie you _haven't_ seen."  
  
"I've yet to see the _Men in Black_ movies." Stiles admits, nodding. "And don't worry, I'm just as disappointed in myself as you are."

He's not exactly sure what he's doing for the long weekend, but he still can't help but feel like he's lying to his best friend, just a little bit. Yeah, there's the massively big chance that he'll end up watching movies, like he tends to -- his dad has one of those fancy police conventions or whatever, so he'll have the house to himself -- but he's just not at a point yet that where he can admit that it's going to be less of a movie night and more of a Sleeping With Derek Hale night.

It's still awesome, and he doesn't really regret it, not in the least. But still, lying to Scott just feels wrong.

Then again, Scott has Allison to distract him, so it's not all bad.

Scott nods, and they both slow down, almost out of habit, as they get closer to their classroom. "Allison wants to go on a trip out of town together. She's running it by her dad, I guess, but she wants to keep it a surprise." He smiles to himself, and Stiles has to resist the urge to roll his eyes -- the guy's completely head over heels. "I think it'll be nice."

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles waves his hand dismissively. "A nice hotel room all to yourselves, that'll be great, I'm sure." Scott flushed, and Stiles laughs as he practically skips into the classroom. "Hey, man, you were thinking it! I was just the one who said it!"  


"You know, there's gonna come a day when I'll be able to say stuff like that about you!"

Stiles waves him off again, and swallows down the retort of _You already missed your chance_.

\--

It's near the end of May, when the weather is starting to get hotter during the day and crisper at night, that Derek and Stiles find themselves on that hill again, sitting quietly in the dusk.

They don't talk much when they're up here -- it's something of a unspoken agreement, that this is ground where conversation just doesn't belong. They've had important talks up here before, sure, but they never just shoot the breeze. It doesn't feel right, or respectful, even, to chat while in the presence of such close heavenly bodies. 

Neither of them are comfortable with it. So they just sit.

That's why Stiles is surprised to hear Derek speak, after... well, has it been forty-five minutes, maybe an hour? But Derek speaks, his arms crossed as he looks at the sky, and Stiles hunches his shoulders deeper, feeling the weight of Derek's jacket fall on his frame.

"So," Derek starts quietly, without any prompting, "how about this weekend?"  
  
Stiles is a bit jarred by the question, but he looks over at Derek. He's cast his eyes downward, staring at his shoes as if they're confusing him, and Stiles starts wondering who's more uncertain about the question, between the two of them. "This weekend? For what?"  
  
Derek pushes himself off the hood of the Camaro and eyes Stiles questioningly. "You have a long weekend, don't you?" Stiles nods his head slowly, and Derek shrugs. He looks away when he continues. "How about this weekend? For... for Seattle."

Seattle? What about --

... _Seattle_.

Stiles tries his best not to gape, but he almost completely forgot about the whole Seattle thing. He keeps it in the back of his mind, for the most part, to call upon and just feel... happy about, really. That Derek would even _ask_ him, but now that it's coming up again, now that it might become a tangible _reality_? Well... he's not exactly sure how he's supposed to react.

He tilts his head, and Derek looks almost as confused as he feels. "My dad will be out." he says absently, mostly just to get the point out into the air, and he sees something flash in Derek's eyes, almost like... hope, if he were to be so bold. "All weekend, you mean?"  
  
Derek shrugs. "For the most part. It's not the shortest drive ever, but it's not horrible, either. We can probably be home well before your dad." He tilts his head, almost to mirror Stiles' action. "And besides, if he shows up first, we can just say we were out... at a batting cage or something."

Stiles' laugh is abrupt, and it surprises him. "A _batting cage_?" He hauls himself off the hood of the Camaro and crosses his arms, trying to look at least a little bit defiant. "My dad's a police officer for a reason, you know. You'll have to do a little better than that."

"It's convincing, isn't it?" Derek's smile is small.

The joke doesn't take too long to die out, though, and Stiles is left there with an offer in front of his face, and frankly, he doesn't know what to do. Part of him thought that the Seattle thing would... well, it'd always be a "future plan," and that it would never really _happen_ , so he can't help but be surprised now that it's coming up.

And even then, it's a lot to take in. He'll have to plan and make arrangements, maybe even spin up a lie to appease Scott or anybody else that comes by his house, not to mention pack (which he's never been good at.) Stiles nearly bites his tongue when he realizes that he's making it sound like Derek asked him to move in or something, but what? He's a little nervous. He can't help but feel that it's... a big step.

But, really? He wants to go. He really, _really_ wants to go.

It's not gonna do him any good denying that, either, and he knows that Derek's just as nervous as he is, if not more so. He knows that it was probably a bigger step for him to actually come out and _ask_ than it would be for Stiles to just accept, and he... really admires that. There's an oddly strong feeling pooling in his ribcage, but he knows it's good.

So he shoots Derek his best grin. "Can I sleep in the backseat if I get tired?" Derek seems a bit taken aback by the sudden question, but he's less confused and more amused by it. He chuckles dryly and leans down, kissing Stiles firmly.

"If you take off your shoes." he replies, and Stiles figures it's a pretty good deal.

\--

He knows that he's no Derek Hale, and that he probably won't be able to go the entire trip on nothing but fumes, but he can't really bring himself to move into the backseat of the car, even as their road trip approaches fourteen straight hours, from four on Friday morning to six o'clock. The drive has been... surprisingly pleasant, considering how worried he was, even if his legs feel like pudding and his eyes are drooping shut.

It takes, on average, sixteen hours to get from Beacon Hills to Seattle, and most of the drive is through Oregon, which Stiles hardly thinks is fair. If he's going road-tripping, why not pass through more states? Why not see the world's largest ball of twine, or the last surviving... he doesn't know, butter churn or something (that's a thing, right?)

But even in the early dim of the morning when the Camaro's flying quietly down the road, Derek makes up for the lack of national treasures and billboards advertising the World's Tallest Slinky by just... talking. It's not something he does often, and Stiles has to swallow his utter disbelief for a few minutes.

Because this is _Derek Hale_ , the guy who, a few months ago, wouldn't have spared him the time of day, who would have ripped out his throat with a flick of his wrist, who wouldn't have care if he lived or died. This is Derek Hale, who... well.

Stiles pockets the "love" card for another day -- he's playing close to the chest on this one.

There's quiet music on the radio and only a car here or there passing them by on the other side of the road, but Derek chuckles at Stiles' jokes, and they make small talk. They talk about their families, about their pasts, about the things they want to do, both short-term and long-term. They make fun of Scott and they talk about the betas, Derek honest to goodness _laughs_ a few times, and Stiles is... Stiles is ridiculously happy, he's not gonna lie.  


When they hit the toll into Washington, Derek, much to Stiles' surprise, yawns. Stiles tries to force down his chuckle, because, honestly, _it was cute_ , and Derek rolls his eyes. "Werewolves get tired, too, you know." It sounds like the title to some ridiculous children's book, though, and Stiles' laughs bubble up out of him, despite his efforts.

The sky has long since gotten dark, and Stiles can feel the threat of sleep starting to overwhelm him, too, but Derek keeps driving past motel after motel for... well, it feels like miles, but it's probably only a few blocks.

"We're not stopping?" he asks quietly, and he really doesn't care what the answer is, but he's curious. Derek looks just as beat as he feels, but he also looks... content. He looks a lot lighter than Stiles has ever seen him, a lot more careless.

He's not sure if Derek would ever want to be described as "careless," but he feels like it fits.

Derek gestures to a clump of silhouettes in the dark sky of Washington just as raindrops start slapping against the windshield. "I want to bring you there first." Stiles blinks in surprise, and he's honestly wondering what's so important that they're bypassing practically everywhere that they can stay the night, but...

He's got a lot more faith in Derek than he realized.

\--

Stiles can't tell where they are when they first arrive, but he can see towering structures and curling mechanics and something utterly _surreal_ about where Derek has brought him. The rain is coming down a bit harder now -- not so bad that they can't keep going, but enough to keep the windshield wipers on.

The gate that they pass through is wide open and old, as Stiles can see, even in the darkness. It's probably rusted and relatively disused, and he wonders why such a large area would be fenced off and then just left... open. He finds it odd.

Derek doesn't drive too far into the maze of structures, though, and he eventually stops the car. He shuts the Camaro down and glances at Stiles. "Wait here." he says quietly, and Stiles furrows his brow.

Leave him in the middle of some... dark, twisting wasteland? He knows that Derek's crazy, and he knows that Derek brought him to an abandoned building once just to watch a movie, but there's no possible way that there's anything _here_ , other than all these weird objects. He doesn't see Derek disappear into the black, but after a moment he can hear what sounds like... well, maybe a lithe body hitting metal, he can't really tell, maybe something moving.

He shrinks a bit into the seat of the Camaro, suddenly a bit more nervous. The water's not too bad, but the dark is encompassing, and Derek's disappeared, and -- and he jumps a bit when Derek knocks his knuckles against the passenger's side window.

Derek beckons him out. Stiles hesitates for just a second before nodding and opening the door.

Just as his foot hits the ground, it... well, it feels like a bolt of light or energy or _something_ shoots around them, starts weaving its way through the intricate constructions and buildings and lights them up like the heavens on fire.

Slowly, very slowly, even through the haze of rain pouring down on them, colorful light bulb after light bulb springs to life and illuminates the night, washing reds and yellows and blues and greens over the ground, bouncing off the stark black of the Camaro. Stiles can't help but inhale sharply -- Derek drove him right into the middle of some kind of amusement park or attraction, and he didn't even realize.

He at Derek, who's smiling fondly at the lights thrown into the sky. The night's quiet, even with the water, so Derek doesn't have to shout when he says, "This is what I was telling you about, remember? That attraction I passed by when I was younger?"

"You're _joking_." Stiles breathes, bringing his eyes back to stare in awe at the many pinpricks of light -- it's not the biggest amusement park he's ever seen, it seems more like a small local fair of sorts, but there's a small Ferris wheel and a carousel and... so many _lights_. "I get why you loved it so much."

Derek nods. "It was an attraction back in the fifties, before it was shut down due to safety regulations or whatever. They keep it open as a state attraction, though. All the lights are run by a main electrical system that they turn on a few times a year, for the Fourth of July and stuff like that."

Stiles takes a few steps forward -- he can get why this is an attraction, because it's _marvelous_. It lights up the backdrop of the sky like _nothing_ and he can practically imagine the fireworks he would see every year with his mother, stretching their tendrils into the night. He chuckles a bit. "We won't get in trouble for being here, right? I'm pretty sure they'll notice if a giant clump of steel and glass suddenly lights up."  


The other man shrugs. "We'll probably get in trouble. But when don't we?"  
  
Stiles laughs, loud and long, at that, because it's _true_ , and _still_ , Derek brought him into this... wasteland of metal and electricity and _beauty_ , had no qualms about sharing this part of him with Stiles.

This isn't just a trip to Seattle to him.

Derek moves to stand next to him. "Peter and Laura and I would come here every year to watch the fireworks." he explains quietly, brushing his shoulder against Stiles'. "We actually learned about Beacon Hills here. Some police officer from down there -- really young guy, must have been new -- came up to watch the fireworks with his daughter and started a conversation with my uncle."

"No kidding." Stiles mumbles. "Weird coincidence, don't you think?"  
  
The other man shrugs. "I guess so." He has the ghost of a smile on his face when he continues. "He was training a puppy, too. It was this really small, pathetic thing, but you could tell that they loved him."  
  
Stiles looks at Derek. "What, did you talk to it or something?" Derek just scoffs.

" _No_ , I didn't talk to the dog." There's a light hanging loose from one of the rides -- it looks like some kind of miniature rollercoaster -- and it's swinging back and forth lazily in the wind, casting yellow light back and forth. "But you could just _tell_ , you know?"  
  
And Stiles can almost understand that, almost --

"His name was cute, though. Cyprus, or something. Weird, right?"

_The shiny silver tag around its neck read Cyprus, weird name for a dog..._

Stiles' grin widens, and he leans further into Derek's shoulder. "Yeah. Weird."

\--

The water ends up coming down harder, as they expected, and Stiles eventually laughs, feeling a cold trickle of rain rolling down his back, and suggests that they get back in the car. He's not sure when he got to a point in his relationship with Derek Hale where they were laughing at each other in the rain in abandoned amusement parks, but... well, he's glad they're there.

He slides into the backseat, intent on taking up Derek's offer for a nap until they get to a motel, and Derek goes to open the driver's side door. Stiles doesn't notice him hesitate, though, or let his hand fall away from the handle.

Stiles looks up, though, when the back door opens up a little further.  
  
Derek's soaked, but he moves fast (probably the whole werewolf thing) and he's above Stiles before he has any choice in the matter, pushing him into the fabric of the backseat, hot and wet on his mouth with so much _purpose_ that Stiles is surprised. He knows they're getting water all over the upholstery, and he wonders if Derek knows, because this can't be good but -- _oh_ , he kind of doesn't care. 

He lets his arm slip around Derek's neck, pulls him closer so that they're lined up against one another from head to toe, and neither of them care that the door is still open or that the lights are still shining in brilliantly through the windshield of the car. Derek pushes him down, lets his hands run down Stiles' sides, ravages his mouth, and _Stiles could get used to this_.

But Derek pulls away, and his expression is open -- something of a mix between surprise and _honesty_ , like Stiles could ask him anything and he'd answer with the truth, and he's quiet when he speaks. "I hope I'm not being insensitive or anything," he breathes, and Stiles realizes they're practically sharing the same air, they're that close, "but... I mean, this is... kind of like that hill. For me, I mean."

Well, he hadn't seen that coming. But he smiles, and soft, affectionate smile that Derek seems to take to, seems to be comforted by, and he replies, "As close to Heaven as you'd ever want to be."  
  
He's not sure exactly where it came from -- maybe he's heard it before, he's not sure -- but it feels right, and Derek returns his smile and kisses him firmly, pushes him back into the seat, and... well, it's true. 

Besides, he doesn't think there could be anywhere much better than here.


End file.
